This summer, I read a book titled “Love Your Enemies” by Arthur C. Brooks, who was recently the president of a conservative think tank, the American Enterprise Institute. The book discusses changing the way we interact in the political sphere. Instead of writing a book review, I want to reflect on its impact on me.
First, a bit about Brooks. He appears to be a thoughtful, reasonable individual with a background as a professional classical musician for about 22 years. Later, he transitioned into economics and policy analysis, initially focusing on charitable giving. Brooks is friends with the Dalai Lama, and they even co-wrote an article for the New York Times. Though he’s been a practicing Catholic since age 16, the Dalai Lama’s teachings on love have significantly influenced him. Brooks was once a registered Democrat, then a Republican, and now he’s an Independent. Despite being conservative, he doesn’t align with Trumpian conservatism.
I intentionally chose to read a book by a conservative to challenge my own liberal views and counter the trend of quickly dismissing differing opinions. Although Brooks and I likely don’t align politically, I welcomed this challenge.
The book indeed challenged me in various ways, sometimes testing my patience. Brooks aims for balance, critiquing both Donald Trump and Hillary Clinton, even though I believe their flaws aren’t equivalent. While discussing the need for democratic rules, he avoids addressing significant rule-breaking issues like gerrymandering or voter purges, probably to maintain a strained sense of impartiality. Despite wanting Brooks to admit that sometimes one side is worse, I reminded myself this could be my own bias.
The main positive challenge was: how can we love our enemies? It encouraged me to approach others more lovingly, communicate with compassion, practice empathy deeply, and let go of tribalism—tasks that seem lifelong and difficult.
What resonated most was Brooks’ dismissal of “civility” and “tolerance” as sufficient goals. It’s not that we shouldn’t be civil or tolerant, but that these goals fall short. Brooks argues that describing a marriage as “civil” or “tolerant” would signal a problematic relationship. Similarly, merely being civil or tolerant towards political opponents is inadequate—we must learn to love our enemies.
Of course, this is deeply challenging. Even achieving civility and tolerance is tough because we often feel compelled to judge harshly those we disagree with. If loving our enemies is even harder, how can we start?
I believe the fundamental step is recognizing the common humanity in those we disagree with. We all desire similar things like fairness, freedom, and security, but we pursue these goals differently. These differences bring us into opposition, leading to clashes and viewing each other as enemies. We stop seeing any common ground and resort to name-calling and distorting each other’s views.
Take, for example, a person who believes human activities drive climate change and seeks significant government intervention versus another person wary of governmental overreach. These two might view each other as existential enemies, unlikely to change each other’s minds. Their interactions often become displays of contempt and loyalty to their political groups, rather than genuine dialogues.
By looking beyond the insults and policies, we can see two humans who are afraid and seeking security. If we approach each other with this understanding, our communication becomes more respectful and sensitive. We might start learning from one another instead of lecturing and insulting, aiming for connection rather than division.
Brooks cites the friendship between Princeton professors Cornel West, a black socialist, and Robert George, a white conservative, as an example. Despite disagreeing on nearly everything, they clearly love each other as brothers. Their relationship isn’t about forced politeness or mere tolerance; it’s about love, respect, and openness to learning. This shows it’s possible to love while disagreeing and challenging each other’s views.
One risk in trying to empathize with opponents is getting angry when it doesn’t work. Brooks emphasizes that empathy isn’t a trick to change people’s minds. It’s valuable because it’s a better way to live. Acting out of empathy might not change every heart and mind, but it’s always worth trying and benefits us in the long run, helping us connect more deeply with our own humanity.
I’m attempting to put this into practice. Step one is distancing myself from what Brooks calls the “outrage industrial complex” found in social media and televised debates. I’ve already reduced my social media use and avoid popular accounts that thrive on insults.
I’m gradually learning to see common concerns beneath our differing worldviews and recognize the humanity beneath contempt. Communicating empathetically with people I completely disagree with still scares me, but it’s a lifelong task I’ve just begun. As someone who has been practicing and teaching loving-kindness meditation for decades, this is humbling. Loving my enemies feels like a calling. By the time we truly love our enemies, we realize they are no longer enemies, but brothers and sisters.
“Love Your Enemies” isn’t a perfect book, but it’s worth reading for its central challenge—to let go of contempt and strive to become more loving human beings.